Hosannas From The Basements Of Hell - Killing Joke

I harbor thoughts of killing you pour petrol on you and then on me

But then I walk down the stairs and killing joke waits

for me there then we play —

Go psycho

With sticks and stones and bones beneath our homes

We face ourselves hosannas rising from the basements of hell

Anger that poisons my heart eating your liver and heart like voodoo

Just play until you bleed lost in the noise I am free

I’m not a murderer yet